Fifteen Minutes: A Novel (22 page)

Zack’s anger doubled. He gritted his teeth and headed over to Zoey. She looked up when she saw him coming her way. He had to yell over the music. “Can we talk?”

“Sure!” She gave the girls around her a look that said maybe this was her lucky day. The others giggled and Zoey bounced up, ready to follow him. “Where are we going?”

“Out in the hall.” He could feel the cameras on him, so he kept his smile in place. Everything they did was fair game for future shows. “Hurry, okay?”

She stayed close as they darted out of sight of the cameras. The hallway was dark and finally the two of them were alone. Only then did Zack let his frustration show. “Did you tweet from my phone?”

Her flirty expression became indignant. “Someone had to. You added a hundred thousand followers tonight.” She grinned. “Which, by the way, so did I.”

Zack was stuck back at her first response. “You really did that? You tweeted like you were me?” Zack wanted to shout at her. He raked his fingers through his hair. “I can’t believe this.”

“I didn’t think you’d be mad.” She lowered her chin, pressing her shoulder to the wall, defeated. Her eyes met his. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Zoey. Never do that again.” He exhaled, struggling for control. “That’s not your place.”

“I said I was sorry.” She blinked a few times, and in the silence between them he watched tears fill her eyes. “Nothing ever goes the way I plan.”

Zack’s anger dissolved. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t think I’m pretty, do you?”

“Oh, man.” He slumped against the wall, facing her. She was easily the most beautiful girl this season. It was way after ten o’clock, and the hallway was mostly dark. Just a thin stream of light from the city flooded in from the windows at the far end of the building. Zack felt his guard slip. All this time he had looked at her with disdain, frustrated by her advances, certain of his convictions. But right now, with her crying and questioning her beauty, for the first time he could feel himself responding to her. He swallowed, praying for his world to right itself. “You’re . . . very beautiful, Zoey. You know that.”

“But not to you.” She ran her fingertips beneath her eyes. “I annoy you, right? That’s how it seems.”

“I have a girlfriend.”

“You should at least be open to new things. New people.” She sniffed and lifted her pretty face to him. “You told me we’d talk that night after group auditions. But we didn’t.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “How come?”

He could smell her perfume and a faint bit of mint from her breath. They needed to get back in the room with the others. This was crazy, being out here in the dark hallway with her so close, so emotional. With him suddenly racked by uncertainty. He swallowed discreetly, searching for control. “I . . . I still want to talk.”

“It doesn’t seem like it.”

His heart went out to her. She had been at his side for nearly two weeks and here, against all reason, Zack could admit the reality
of the situation only now. He liked her spunk and her energy. He really did. Maybe his frustration with her was only his way of protecting himself from feeling something more.

Zack drew a deep breath and tried to make sense of it all.

She seemed to melt, her tears coming harder than before. She closed the gap between them and slowly her arms came up around his neck. She seemed weary, exhausted as she pressed her face against his chest. “Hold me, Zack. Please. Just hold me.”

He had no choice. He wanted to be there for her. That was the right thing to do. But what started as his way of showing concern, of being the big brother she needed, gradually became something Zack struggled to deny. With her body pressed against his, he found himself running his hand along her back. “It’s okay. Zoey, I’m here. It’s okay.”

“I need you.”

Step back . . . you need distance between you,
his conscience shouted at him. But all at once the pressures of the competition, the strange feeling of seeing himself on television, the sudden onslaught of Twitter followers, all got in the way. Suddenly it seemed like only Zoey could understand what he was going through, the same way only he could understand her. Kip Barker had called them the Romeo and Juliet of
Fifteen Minutes
season ten. And right now that was exactly how it felt.

“Zack.” She pulled back just enough so she could see his eyes. “Do you think I’m pretty?”

“Yes.” His mouth was dry. What was he doing? “Everyone knows you’re pretty. I have eyes, Zoey.”

“What if . . . what if we were meant to be? And we met too late?”

This wasn’t happening. Zack needed air, needed to breathe
somewhere far away from Zoey Davis. “What if we were meant to be friends?”

She ran her fingers lightly down his arms and pressed in close again. “You want to kiss me,” she whispered. “I know you do.”

Zack shook his head. He didn’t want that. He wanted to get away from her and call Reese before he lost himself in this dark hallway, somewhere in a rented party space in the heart of New York City. He shook his head. “I want—” That was as far as he got.

Her lips were on his and like that her kiss hijacked his senses. His arms were around her and the connection he’d been avoiding since they met was actually happening. But after a few seconds, control found him. He pushed away from her and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “No! I can’t.”

“You did.” For the first time since he’d known her, she looked angry. “Don’t lie to yourself, Zack. You felt something just now.” She took a step back and adjusted her tank top. In the shadows he could see goose bumps on her tan arms. “Remember this . . . when you lie to yourself about your girl back home.”

With that she turned and left him standing alone in the hall. Zack’s heart pounded in his chest. Slowly, he sank to the floor, his back against the wall in every possible way. What had he done?

He pressed his fists to his eyes, furious with himself. She was pretty, yes. But he was in love with Reese. How could he have let that happen? And how could he call Reese now and tell her about his night?
Father, I failed her and I failed You. I failed my family and everyone pulling for me back home. How can I even stand after this?
The prayer felt strangely foreign and he realized something else. He hadn’t talked to God all night. Not once until now. He thought about his next move. Maybe he should go back
in the room, find William Gaines and quit. Tell him the show officially had one less contestant. It wasn’t worth losing himself.

Lord, help me . . . I don’t know what to do.

Fear—pure, unfiltered fear—ran through his veins. They still had more than two months before the winner would be crowned. If this could happen in two weeks, who would he be when the season ended? For ten minutes Zack stayed there, his head pressed against his fists, trying to find the courage to quit.

But gradually an answer took shape in his heart.

He’d messed up, yes. But everyone messed up at one time or another. He couldn’t be so hard on himself. He’d kissed Zoey, but only for a few seconds. It wouldn’t happen again. He would apologize to her the next time they were alone and then he’d do what he should’ve done from the beginning. He would have that talk he’d promised her. The one about Jesus.

And when he talked to Reese in person next, he’d tell her what happened. She deserved to know. He would apologize and explain how the moment had gotten away from him, how he hadn’t kept boundaries in place and how he’d learned from the situation. Yes, that’s what he would do. That way he could stay on the show. He would just be more careful with his heart and emotions. His promise to Reese and Grandpa Dan would remain intact.

Everything would be okay.

CHANDRA OLSON PRIDED
herself on watching, studying people. Even trapped by fame, she remained a student of life and love. She saw things other people missed. So when Zack and Zoey slipped into the hallway a few minutes after the season premiere ended, Chandra noticed.

She saw them leave and she saw something else—something neither Zoey nor Zack could have noticed. The cameraman who followed them through a distant door at the back of the room.

When Zoey came back alone and angry, Chandra had an idea of what might’ve gone down. She waited until the cameraman slipped back into the room before she made her exit. By then everyone was in full party mode.

Spirits were sky-high. Music blared and rays of neon light added to what had become a dance floor in front of the big-screen TV. The room was dark and more than a few of the contestants seemed to be coupling up. Not that any of them mattered to Chandra the way Zoey and Zack mattered.

The producers had already told the judges. They had made their decision. They loved the Romeo and Juliet story, and if they had it their way, Zoey and Zack would be the last two contestants standing. By then they intended to have plenty of footage showing the reality of the denied romance, the heartache of the forgotten girlfriend back home. At a meeting last week Samuel Meier had put it simply. “America’s going to fall in love with Zack and Zoey. It’ll be the biggest finale ever.”

With everyone caught up in the moment and the cameraman getting a drink at the bar, Chandra slipped into the hallway. Sure enough, Zack was ten yards down sitting on the floor, his back to the wall, one knee pulled up. Head in his hands. Whatever had happened, he looked crushed.

Chandra made her way quietly to him and when she reached the spot where he sat, she dropped down cross-legged and faced him. Only then did he notice her. He looked alarmed at first, but then his face fell and he brought his fists to his eyes again. Whatever had happened, he was struggling.

Chandra remembered the moment in her trailer before the
season began, after Zack had made it through the tent round. She wondered then if he was the reason she was here. Maybe she could offer insight to this young man and in the process find a meaning that had evaded her since the death of her parents.

“Hey.” She realized it probably seemed strange to Zack, one of the celebrity judges sitting on the floor of a dark hallway across from him. Especially this early in the show run, when the contestants felt a chasm between themselves and the judges. But that didn’t change the fact that Zack clearly needed help. Chandra kept her voice gentle. “You wanna talk?”

“It’s okay.” He lowered his hands and stared down the hallway toward the door. “I need to think.”

Chandra searched his face, saw the muscles in his shoulders. He was one of the best-looking contestants the show had ever seen. But she felt nothing but pity for him.

“Well.” She drew a slow breath. “If you don’t want to talk, I do.” She leaned her elbows on her knees, only a few feet separating them. From the distant party room, the noise grew, the music louder than before. “What happened?”

He gave a frustrated shake of his head. “We kissed. Me and Zoey.” He looked defeated as he moved his eyes from her to a spot on the floor. “Was it obvious?”

“No. I had a feeling.” There was no judgment in her tone.

“It was a stupid mistake. I . . . It happened before I could stop it.”

“I get it.” She slid back and leaned against the wall, her eyes locked on his. “Living together like this, it isn’t natural. Things happen.”

For the shortest moment she remembered her own secrets. How she had done the same thing when she was a contestant. She had been engaged back then. The affair was another part
of her story—the part she rarely thought about anymore. That season the producers constantly placed her with Broadway singer Demetri Johnson, a beautiful brown-skinned dancer with a silky tenor voice and an ocean of charisma. The two of them had done more than make out in their weeks housed together.

She refused the memories. “Tell me about your girlfriend.”

“My . . .” He shook his head. “She’s amazing. She . . .” His voice trailed off. “The two of us, we need to talk.”

“Zack.” Chandra held up her hand. “Just tell me about her.”

“Okay.” His eyes welled up. “She’s . . . she’s perfect. Our grandparents were friends decades ago. It’s like . . . like we were destined to be together.”

“Mmm.” Chandra nodded. “Is she in school?”

“We graduated. She teaches equine therapy.” He ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes strained from the stress of the night. “Her work . . . it’s changing lives.”

“Have you talked with her? Since the show aired?”

“I tried to call her. The signal was bad.”

“Yes . . . convenient.” She leaned her head back and surveyed him for a long time. “Zack, can I tell you something?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t ‘yes, ma’am’ me. I’m your age. Don’t look at me and see Chandra Olson, celebrity. Okay? Can you do that?”

Zack looked slightly baffled. He sat up straighter and nodded. “I can try.”

“Before
Fifteen Minutes,
I was just another girl. I was in college and I was engaged to my high school sweetheart. I was close to my parents and all of life was real and alive and perfect.” She raised her eyebrows, her gaze intent on his. “Can you see that?”

The question seemed to hit a mark with Zack. He nodded slowly and exhaled, settling down some. “I think so.”

“Okay.” She lifted her chin, wanting him to see the changes as clearly as she could see them. “What did I want when I auditioned for
Fifteen Minutes
? What was I trying to do?”

He shrugged. “Make it as a singer.”

“Yes. I wanted people to know I could sing.” She smiled, but the feeling didn’t reach her soul. “You know what happened instead? I stepped on a speeding train, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Overnight, Zack. Overnight people knew my name. I couldn’t go shopping or stop at Starbucks for a latte. My Twitter blew up and so did my Facebook. I couldn’t tell my friends from the people who stalked me.”

His eyes grew a little wider.

“You feeling me?”

“I think so.”

“How many Twitter followers did you add tonight?”

“A hundred thousand.” He picked up his phone beside him and shoved it in his pocket. “I haven’t really looked.”

“Oh”—she pointed at him—“but they’re looking, aren’t they? And by next week it’ll be twice that. All those girls wanting a piece of your look and your voice and your body. You ready for that, Zack Dylan?”